


False Pretense

by moonyandpadfoot07



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aurors, Awkward Romance, F/M, False Memories, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Muggle Life, Multi, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-03
Updated: 2015-08-03
Packaged: 2018-04-12 18:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4490301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonyandpadfoot07/pseuds/moonyandpadfoot07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco Malfoy's memories are altered, and it becomes Harry's mission to remind him of who he truly is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	False Pretense

**Author's Note:**

> I posted the idea for this fanfic on Tumblr a few days ago, and I didn't know people actually liked it. So here is the first chapter of my second Drarry fic. The chapter was actually longer, but I had to edit and split it in two parts.
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment. Thanks!

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The table on the far left roared as the first student amongst the incoming first years was sorted into Gryffindor.

His eyes darted to the other side of the Great Hall. He searched the Slytherin table for Malfoy. He found him. The blonde was sitting near the end of the table, his chin cupping in his hand. Malfoy had the same bored expression on his face since Harry last saw him on the train. He caught a glimpse of Malfoy when he and his friends were searching for a compartment, and there he saw the teenage boy sitting by himself, staring out the window.

Harry broke his stare and moved his eyes back to the stool where another student was being sorted. A few seconds later the Sorting Hat bellowed, “Ravenclaw!”

It seemed like obsessing over Malfoy again, observing him like this. It’s not like he had a choice. Kingsley entrusted him with this case, and Harry was just doing his job. That’s all.

By now five students had been sorted to Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, but still none from Slytherin. Harry once again stole a quick glance to the Slytherin table, but Malfoy was gone.

_Where did he go?_

Harry was tempted to walk out of the Great Hall and search for the missing boy, but blowing his cover wasn’t exactly in the plan. What if he stormed out of the place and Malfoy found out he was tailing him? Harry talked himself out of that idea, drumming his fingers on the table. Malfoy would come back any time soon.

“Harry?”

Ginny.

Harry’s stomach gave a sudden lurch.

Their eyes met. Harry’s heart jumped, but he didn’t drop his gaze. He wanted to say a dozen things to her, but couldn’t bring himself to. _I’m sorry,_ but the words echoed only in his head.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Harry gave a weak smile.

There were days he would visit the Burrow to see Ron and the rest of his family. He ate dinner on Friday nights and Mrs. Weasley would always bake him treacle tart. He loved it. Sometimes he sat beside Ginny at the dinner table. She didn’t mind.

Sometimes he would smile at her. She smiled back. Harry and Ginny talked about some things like the garden gnomes and the ghoul in the attic, but never about their relationship. She was selflessly giving him all the time he needed. Harry couldn’t be more grateful.

There were too many deaths that the war had brought upon, and it was hard not to think they weren’t his fault.

He wretched his eyes on the stool where another student sat, and this time the Sorting Hat yelled, “Slytherin!” The Slytherins clapped wildly at the boy who was now the newest member of the House, their voices dominating the entirety of the Hall with their yells and cheers. Professor Slughorn had to rise from his seat and tell the students off before the noise died down and restore the peace.

“Slytherins overreacting, bloody hell,” Ron muttered in his seat. “I wonder where our dormitories will be.”

“We’re moving?” Hermione blinked. “Oh.”

“I overheard Ravenclaws talking about how Professor McGonagall is planning to move us to a new dormitory.”

“Is that so?” There was a delicate furrow forming on Hermione’s forehead now. “I reckon she will putting us all together in one tower regardless of our Houses.”

That summer, Hermione successfully convinced Harry and Ron into coming back to Hogwarts for their final year. Originally, Harry’s plan was to join the Ministry of Magic and become an Auror. Hermione dissuaded him from taking that course of action, debating that they should take things slow and enjoy their remaining teenage years doing, as Harry would quote, ‘ordinary teenage things.’

Harry laughed (in a good way), arguing that they weren’t ordinary teenagers because really, who spends a year looking for Horcruxes, camping out in a forest, impersonating three government employees, robbing a Gringotts vault, flying off a dragon to escape said bank, letting an ancient locket mess with your head and making you believe you’re worth less than your friends actually think, swimming half-naked in a lake to retrieve a magical, historical artifact, being locked up in some Death Eater’s cellar who by the way was your school mate, burying a free elf who crazily loved socks, and battling the most evil dark wizard of all time?

“The more you should spend time doing what _actual_ ordinary teenagers do. Like for example, burying your nose under a Potions book hours before the final exams,” Hermione winked.

“I loathed Potions,” Harry groaned. But simply because Snape taught it. When Professor Slughorn took over, he was suddenly genius at potion-making. Harry could remember the way Hermione’s nostrils flared whenever he beat her at brewing them, but those glorious days had come to an end when he discovered his least favorite teacher was the former owner of the book he was using.

“Every teenager loathes a certain subject. I hated Divination.”

Harry ran fingers through his hair. “I’ll think about it.”

He might have said that, but Harry was positive he would be coming back with his friends to Hogwarts this year.

Because Harry was now the youngest Auror at age seventeen.

He would tell them, but not so soon. He swore to Kingsley he would keep it a secret. Harry didn’t know what his first mission was, but the man had already promised him that he would be assigned to his first case before the term started. He slipped that it must be done at Hogwarts, with some exceptions. Harry was bemused. What kind of job would he be doing in a school?

He suddenly remembered Aurors patrolling the grounds at Hogwarts a few years ago. Maybe Kingsley simply wanted him to be on the look-out for dark wizards that might attack the school? No. If what Kingsley needed was to heighten Hogwarts security, surely he would have dispatched a few Aurors to hunt down and capture them. Maybe Kingsley wanted him to guard something, something that the Headmistress was keeping inside the castle, something that might endanger the students? But if such thing existed, Professor McGonagall could easily take care of it.

Whatever. Harry would just wait patiently for Kingsley’s orders, even if thinking about them drove him a little mad.

Three days after, Kinsgley appeared at the fireplace in Number 12, Grimauld Place. Luckily Harry was there, or he wouldn’t have heard of what Kinsgley had to offer him that night.

“Good evening, Harry.”

Harry was gobsmacked. He wasn’t expecting the Minister of Magic to pop into the house. Harry lost track of time all the while he was upstairs, but he was sure it was the dead of night.

 “Are you alone?” Kinsgley asked, his eyes moving in different directions.

“Yes,” Harry nodded.

 “I’m sorry I couldn’t find the perfect time and place for us to talk about your first mission. I’m a busy man, Harry. I meet all sorts of wizards and witches during the day, and the Prophet’s on the lookout 24/7.”

“It’s fine. I understand. People are so easy to scare nowadays,” Harry said, reflecting on what happened last May which was the Battle of Hogwarts.

Then suddenly there was a flashback. Lifeless bodies on the floor, and the face of a red-haired boy who died smiling.

It was his fault, wasn’t it?

_“Harry?”_

Harry snapped out of his reverie. “I’m sorry. What?”

Kinsgley exhaled, the flames growing a little. He seemed a little irritated that Harry drifted off during the conversation, but remained calm. “I need you to protect Draco Malfoy.”

Kingsley’s statement took Harry by surprise. “ _Malfoy?_ But why?” Harry spat out.

He gave Harry an imploring look. “You are the only one who’s qualified to do this job.”

Harry clicked his tongue. “Am I, Sir?”

“I know you hate him, but his life depends on yours.”

“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Sir, but I—“

“Trust me, Harry. You’d want to consider this."

That made Harry shut up. What was happening?

Kingsley continued. “The Malfoys are receiving death threats, and only two days ago that one of them became real. Lucius Malfoy almost lost his life.”

“Testifying for them in court doesn’t make us best friends, but I don’t think he deserves that. Not after all I went through to save his arse a month ago.” Harry said bitterly.

That’s right. Thanks to Harry, the Malfoys were acquitted of all their crimes during the Second Wizarding War. He narrated the story of how Narcissa lied to the Dark Lord, and Draco’s refusal to identify him when they were brought and captured by other Death Eaters who found them in the forest. The trial went on, and in the end the Wizengamot declared that no Malfoy was to be sent to Azkaban for turning against the Dark Lord at the last minute.

Harry and Draco might have exchanged glances during the trial, but neither said a word to the other. And Harry was stupid to believe that it was going to stay that way for a long time.

“I am not in the position to decline, Sir,” Harry said finally after contemplating about his relationship between Draco Malfoy. They weren’t in good terms, but taking this job didn’t mean he had to be best buds with Malfoy. “But let me ask one more thing—why do I have to protect Draco and not his father?”

“Draco Malfoy was the real target, not Lucius. The attacker mistook Lucius for his son, so he was the one who came through the peril.”

“How bad was it?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.

“He will recover soon. Lucius has already requested for their family Healer to treat him in the comfort of his own house,” Kingsley paused again. “This is where it gets weird, Harry. He received three stab wounds in the stomach. _Stab wounds.”_

“Muggle crime,” Harry rasped.

“I have already sent out two Aurors to investigate and while their doing that, I need you to put Draco Malfoy under your radar. I heard the boy is going back to Hogwarts for another year.”

“And Hermione was talking about returning to Hogwarts,” Harry swallowed.

“You know what to do, Mr. Potter.”

First day on the job and Harry was already getting uncomfortable.

“Alright,” Harry said finally. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, Mr. Potter. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Kingsley was gone.


End file.
